“I’ll be in the good bar” – The Big Guy, on how to locate him on arrival at Seatac.
Post 9/11 you can’t get back to the Good Bar once you’ve collected your luggage. Doesn’t matter. The Big Guy’s not here, but he’s everywhere. The escalator reminds me of the first time I ever saw him. We were coming down, and he was going up. The baggage claim reminds me of the time he forgot which flight we were on. The parking lot reminds me of his pimpy white Lexus sedan with the Peace Frog sticker on the back, which in the post Big Guy era we have converted into a Prius. I salute him by drinking a hefeweisen and writing this while waiting for Mr Fishing Guy to drive down from Canada and find me at the airport (written Sunday, posted Monday).
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